


Our Same Sky • South Park

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Gender Fluid Character, Gender Fluid Kenny, Poly Character(s), Poly Kenny, Polyamory, Selectively Mute Character, Selectively Mute Ruby, They All Gay, Trans Character, Trans Stan, Trans Wendyl, buts that's for later, i love my gay children, mute character, one leads into my other book, sub plots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: We all have problems.Some more then others.But we're all under the same sky.





	1. Prolouge

Monogamous.

A adjective that means, the practice of monogamy.

Monogamy.

A word that means, to only have one partner.

Polyamorus.

An adjective that means, the practice of polyamory

Polyamory.

A word that means, to have more than one partner with the consent of the other partner or partners.

In the modern society, monogamy is the most common practice.

Emphasis on _common_.

In today's modern society there is no such thing as “normal”.

Normal.

A word that means, conforming to a standard.

Why should we have to conform to a standard?

What is a standard

Standard.

A word that means, an approved model.

Why do we have to conform to models?

Who said that an average family is one mom one dad and two and a half kids.

Who figured out this equation?

What is average

Average.

A word that means, typical; ordinary.

Who _wants_ to be ordinary?

Why be _ordinary._

Why be who we have been for the past one hundred years or so.

And so we begin our story, with three people.

One who relies on _boring,_ and _ordinary_ , because his life is anything but. Because it's _safe._

One whose life is anything but boring and ordinary. Who relies on dangerous and strange as a means to escape.

And one who is so calm, so out of what used to be ordinary, it's scary. Who relies on this falso calm so he doesn't' end up insane.

This where our story begins, my dear readers, in a small rubdown mountain town, called South Park.


	2. Chapter 1

Craig watched as the November setting sun reflected of the smoke from his cigarette.

He had decided a while ago that sitting on the roof tiles outside his window was the best way to ignore the fighting inside the Tucker household. 

He had been sitting there with only his own thoughts as company for about an hour, when he heard his bedroom window being opened.

Craig didn't even need to look over to know it was his sister.

This wasn't the first time that he had sat out here, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Ruby stood next to her brother tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“ _ Mom’s drunk and Dads leaving if you want to come inside _ .” Ruby offered timidly

Ruby, of course, knew that Craig wasn't going to come inside but she offered anyways.

She always did.

Contrary to the rumors that spread around town, Craig and Ruby Tucker did not hate each other.

Quite the opposite really.

After about a minute or so with out and answer, Ruby sat next to her brother on the weathered brown roof tile.

It wasn't something she did often but, Craig didn't really mind the company.

“Do you think they'll ever actually just get a divorce?”  Craig whispered as Ruby laid her head on his shoulder.

“ _I don't know._ ” Ruby signed, sighing. “ _I hope so. I don't know if either of us can take much more…_ ” Ruby trailed off.

Craig knew she was thinking of the glass and the picture frames that lay broken and scattered throughout the first story of their boring, average, two story home.

Craig just silently offered his sister a cigarette.

It was a nasty habit to have at 17, let alone 12 but he didn't offer it to her often. 

Ruby just smiled in thanks, and took the cigarette and lighter from his hand.

“ _ How do they do it? _ ” Ruby tapped into her brother’s knee taking a drag from the cigarette.

“Who?” Craig asked looking over at his sister.

“ _ The McCormick Kids. How do they deal with all this. I mean they have it even worse. How did they survive this long without going crazy? _ ” Ruby signed, a questioning look in her eyes as she still looking ahead.

“Who's to say they haven't.” Craig replied.

Ruby supposed that he had meant it jokingly,  before she realized how serious his tone actually sounded.

Ruby just shrugged it off and sat in silence with Craig, smoking cigarettes of the roof of their boring, two story home, trying to ignore the fighting that had now moved outside, watching the November setting sun. 

 

##  **-**

 

“Kenny you're gonna get yourself killed.”

_ Funny. _

Kenny looked ahead at the 5 foot gap between the two buildings. 

They could make it.

They  _ had  _ to make it

“It's a fifteen foot drop, you'll never make it.”

_ I'll be fine. _

Standing at a mere five foot three, Kenny McCormick was the shortest seventeen year old in the entire Park County. But Kenny was also the most infamous.

“Come on Ken, you don't have to do this.” 

Kenny just looked over at their raven haired boyfriend.

“You  _ know,  _ I have to Stanley. I'll be fine.” Kenny promised kissing their boyfriend on the cheek.

Kenny finally backed away from the edge of the building.

_ Three foot drop, Five feet across.  _

_ You can do this.  _

_ Prove them wrong. _

This was the best part for Kenny.

This is why Kenny did it.

Kenny loved the adrenaline rush of almost flying. 

_ If only.  _

_ I could just fly away, leave just like……. _

_ No not right now. _

_ Focus. _

_ Don't think about…. _

“What, are you too scared McCormick?” The blonde haired North Park kid - Logan? Luke? - yelled up to Kenny.

Kenny smirked and let out a breath.

_ Breath, let out, go. _

Kenny was off, running like there was no tomorrow.

Kenny vaguely saw Stan bury his face in Kyle's neck, before he reached the edge of the building and launched himself off the edge.

They smiled as he all but flew through the air, before they rolled onto the other roof.

“OH HELL YEAH!” Kenny looked at the three North Park kids giving their bet money to Cartman, with a cocky smile and gave them them all a middle finger.

“I fucking told you I'd do it fuckwands” Kenny yelled at them as the walked away.

After they had left, grumbling about how they were going to have to beg their moms for more money, Kenny looked over at the two boys who had made it made it onto the roof. 

“I told you I'd do it.” Kenny smiled at them.

Stan let out a relieved sigh.

“We know Ken, we know.”

##  **-**

He could feel the thoughts of being watched beginning to trickle through his mind's, like a old sink faucet that needed fixing.

Tweek swore under his breath, before he quickly excused himself from his company. Aside from a few questioning looks, the  group around him, majority, let him go, without so much as a glance, as Tweek got up, and walked out of the room.

Once outside, the boy took a cigarette pack and a white lighter that someone had hastily written “fuck off” in red sharpie, out of his coat pocket.

The package was worn, and the top was beginning to tear from overuse. He had been using, and reusing the same pack for almost a year, but he refused to get rid of it.

He took one of the hand rolled “death sticks”, as Wendyl calls them - the fucking hypocrite - out of the pack before, covering the tip of the cigarette, to keep the lighter from blowing out, and lighting it.   

He quickly took a drag, letting the drugs work through his system.

Though he thought that he wasn't out there long, Wendyl, unsurprisingly, soon came out and silently grabbed the cigarette from Tweek's hand, before taking a drag.

Tweek gave the boy a mock glare, about to cuss him out before Wendyl spoke.

“You really need to stop this. It's a really bad habit.”

He handed the stick back to Tweek, who all but snatched it back, and rest his elbow on the shorter boy’s shoulder.

Wendyl responded by glaring daggers at the taller boy, but didn’t say anything

“Says the one who just stole it from me.” Tweek smiled, taking another drag. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it’s your fault I started anyways. Also, sorry to break up our little party, but you've been gone awhile, people are gonna get suspicious.” Wendyl said, before taking taking the stick from Tweek again, finishing off the cigarette before stopping it out under his black converse

“Really? I hadn't noticed.” Tweek shrugged, walking ahead of Wendyl and opening the door. 

“That’s really fucking gay.” The noirette joked, ducking under Tweek's arm.

“I am really fucking gay.” The blonde retaliated before the slipped back into the library study room, and continuing their debate on whether it's really worth it, to invest so much money on trying to find a way to live on mars. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig has a breakdown and bonds with his mom.

He didn't want to go downstairs.

He didn't want to see the destruction of his parents.

He didn't want to leave the warmth of his comforter.

He didn't want to lose the heat that radiated of his sister who lay in the bed next to him.

It had been a while since Ruby had fallen asleep in his bedroom, but he never pushed her away when she needed the comfort.

Craig reluctantly got up, careful not to wake his sister and walked across the room, and out of his bedroom door.

The damage had been worse than he had expected. Even upstairs, where the bedrooms lay.

Littered around the space between the rooms, lay shards of broken glass, most likely from a wine bottle.

The remnants of crumpled photographs lay in broken frames, ripped from where they once hung on the pale gray walls. 

The dark oak door of his parents room lay slightly ajar, leaving enough room for Craig to see his mother, sans Thomas, sound asleep in bed.

Craig slowly makes his way to the staircase, which lays surprisingly intact,  _ pristine.  _ He knows what it is. He knows that nothing in this house could ever be okay. He knows that it's the calm before the storm..

He makes his way down the stairs, mentally preparing himself for the utter chaos, that he knows lay hidden behind the bend of the staircase. 

The first thing he noticed, the amount of glass that lay intact.

Craig let's out a sigh of relief that he hasn't known he was holding before heading to the kitchen, where a single broken wine glass lay, the red wine that was once inside had long since stained the white rug that lay in from of the sink.

A half empty bottle of wine sits in the counter next to the broken home phone. 

A pan of cookies sit untouched on the stove.

The dining room lay in a similar state. The vase of flowers that Ruby had put out a few days prior, now lay shattered, the flowers once vibrant and full of color now lay crumpled and dull, just like the one who had put them here know lay.

Craig continued into the living room, careful to avoid stepping the flowers that lay on the floor in front of him.

More broken frames lay in the living room, though they hadn't held family photographs, instead they held paintings that his mother had painted years prior, when it was just him and his mother living in Chicago.

Skylines lay torn apart, portraits that now resembled Picasso paintings, flowers now lay ripped and torn, and the last picture that Laura had done in Chicago, the living room of their old apartment, a perfect still that had taken Laura months to paint perfectly, now trampled and torn, the beautiful carved wooden frame broken and splintered.

Craig now knew why they were fighting.

Laura wanted to start painting again.

Craig hadn't even realized that he been crying until he saw them drop onto the edge of the paintings.

The noirette wiped his eyes on the edge of his sleeve before he turned around and went to the kitchen to grab the broom.

He quickly went up the stairs to sweep the glass from the floor, before he went to pick up the family photographs before disposing of their now useless frames. 

Craig really didn't want to go back downstairs. He didn't want to see the only remnants of his life in Chicago destroyed.

He didn't want to see the last painting his mother had ever painted destroyed, ripped, torn, smashed, trampled, just… gone.

He didn’t want to see the one thing that reminded him of the city he grew up in gone.

Why was he getting punished for his parents misfortune.

Why was the one thing that made him happy in this home, besides his own bedroom, gone, ripped away from him as though it was nothing. He felt like he was five again, moving from the only place he had ever known, and being thrown into a new town, with nobody even remotely similar to his old home.

He was scared.

Craig didn't want to be scared.

Craig hated being that scared five year old kid who didn't know what was going on.

He didn't want to be the scared five year old boy that he was. 

He didn't want to be the scared five year old boy watching his mom struggling to get by.

He didn't want to be back there.

“Craig?”

The noirette was five years old again, he was alone with his mother in their tiny two bedroom apartment in Chicago.

He was that five year old, who was torn from the only place he had ever known. 

Torn from the only home he had ever felt safe. 

Torn from childhood, and forced to grow up too fast.

“Oh… Honey come here.”

Craig hadn't even realized he was crying again until his face was buried into the blonde locks of his mother.

“I know… We’re not there now. We’re safe okay. _We’re safe._ _You're safe._ ” 

Laura did her best to try and calm the usually stoic teen down.

It had been years since Craig had broken down like this.

Craig clung to his mother, like she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

She smelled like she had when they last been in Chicago, fresh paint mixed with the clean of the conditioner that she had been using for as long as Craig could remember.

“Come on,” Laura urged softly, a tone that Craig hadn't heard in years. “I have something to show you.” 

Craig hesitated slightly before, he followed his mother.

Laura silently led Craig into the spare room that the family often used as a storage space.

It was only when Laura had already opened the door that Craig had noticed her paint stained hands.

Inside, the room had been almost transformed into an art studio.

Paintings from Craig's childhood in Chicago hung on the walls. The sun reflecting off the water of Lake Michigan, the lights of the city in the middle of winter, the ivy that always grew in the brick walls of Wrigley Field.

But the one painting that captivated Craig the most was the newly painted image of a boy who couldn't have been more than four asleep on a couch,  _ their couch,  _ that was set in  _ their apartment. _ The room itself was in dull greys, the skyline behind it in some of the darkest greys you can imagine, the paintings that hung on the brick walls were in such light greys that some seemed almost white. The monotone colors of the background pulled the attention to the center of the canvas where the boy slept, wrapped in a dark blue chullo hat that was much too large for him and a dark blanket with large stars.

“I started it when we were still in Chicago. I just… never found the time to finish it until now.” 

Laura looked over to Craig, who had a rare smile on his face.

“I love it.” Craig had closed his eyes and as a few tears slipped out, to Laura’s pleasant surprise, Craig went to hug his mother. “Please just… don't stop painting mom… don't stop for anybody.” 

“I won't honey. Never again, I promise okay?”

Laura could feel tears beginning to fall.

“I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Okay, so when did the library become our place to hang out?” Wendyl asked the boy next to him.

Tweek looked at the boy next to him, a curious, but surprised look in his eyes.

“That’s a good question. Probably when you found this little nook, if I had to guess.”

The nook, that Tweek had referred to, was nestled in the back left corner  of the upper level of the library. 

The library’s upper level was mostly reserved for the older books that anyone hardly cheeked out anymore, giving the two privacy to talk, while also allowing them to be a little louder than one should be speaking in a library.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Wendyl looked back towards his book, drumming his fingers lightly on the edge of the page.

They sat in relative silence for a while, minus when one of them occasionally, pointed out a weird fact about whatever topic that they were reading about at that particular moment.

That was until, Wendyl, tentatively, looked towards Tweek.

“How's your meds working?” 

Tweek sighed, running a hand through his already impossibly messy blonde hair.

He knew that Wendyl was gonna ask eventually. He did every time they added another one, took one away, or upped the dosage. 

Tweek figured that it was a habit left over from he had been dating Stan, so he really didn't mind, it was just that he was tired of all the meds his doctor has put on him, but it was either all the meds, or being a paranoid fuck who couldn't even leave his own bedroom, not to mention his house.

“Good, I guess. He finally took me off those damn antidepressants, upped the dosage of Valium, and is starting to talk to my mom about adding more antipsychotics.” Tweek refused to look at the boy, preferring just to stare at the same page in his textbook pretending to read.

They sat in awkward silence for a while, before Wendyl bumped his knee against Tweek's.

“You should really stop smoking if it's affecting your meds this much.” Wendyl suggested refusing to look up from the paper.

“Says you. You smoke more than I do.” Tweek countered bumping his knee against the other boys.

“Oh fuck off, it's your fault I started anyway.” Wendyl joked, before looking over the side of the railing.

“What? Are you expecting someone?” Tweek's asked, following Wendyl's eyes towards the library doors.

“Oh, uh… yeah. Red supposed to be back in town…” Wendyl admitted, fake coughing into his closed fist.

“As in  _ Red,  _ Red?  _ Rebecca Tucker,  _ Red?” Tweek asked eyes widening.

“Yeah…. Red Tucker. I just… I haven't seen her since… well….”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, it's fine, but anyways, Red’s supposedly supposed to be back, for Senior year, because her parents are traveling  Europe for the year, or something like that, and wanted her to stay in one place to finish out High School, and Red choose to come back here, instead of finishing out High School in New York.”

“Why wouldn't she stay in New York? I thought that she liked it better there anyways?” 

Wendyl just shook his head, biting his lip, before peering over the side of the railing.

“Shit she's here.” 

Wendyl looked over at Tweek, silently begging him to come with him to go meet Red.

“Yeah, yeah I will but I barely know her, and everything I know about her I know through Craig.” 

“Thank you. Now come on she's gonna be looking for me, and we both have a lot of explaining to do.”

\-----

They both walked down the stairs, and cut through the left side of the library, the part that held all the children's book, to get to the front door faster.

“Wait!” Tweek stopped to look at the boy behind him.

“ What?” 

“I-” Wendyl bit at his lower lip nervously, “I'm just scared, you know?” 

“Wendyl, it'll be fine. Everything I've heard about Red has been great.”

“I know but…. Ugh, you know how I am, can you just talk to her first please?”

Tweek sighed.

“Yeah, alright, if that'll make you actually talk to her.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever loser.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda hate this but that's fine


End file.
